We have read the address of Mr. Justice Keogh(1) with feelings of surprise
and sorrow. It is un-Catholic in its language, it is un-Catholic in its
spirit, it is un-Catholic in its principles. If it had come from a member
of a hostile sect, we could well afford to let it pass unnoticed; to let
it live its short life, and die a natural death. But when the calumnies,
the sneers, the sarcasms of our enemies are turned against us by one who
is enrolled under the banner of Catholic faith, we can no longer remain
silent in safety. The weapons which are powerless in the hands of a
declared enemy, are dangerous indeed when they are wielded by a traitor in
the camp.
Mr. Justice Keogh is no ordinary man. His mind is adorned with talents
well fitted to amuse, to delight, to instruct an audience. In his short
but brilliant career as an orator and a statesman, he won for himself a
great name at the bar and in the senate. And now he is lifted up above his
fellows, and placed in a position of high trust and extensive influence.
When such a man comes forward, with forethought and preparation, as one of
the instructors of the age, he is a conspicuous object of interest and
attraction. He is looked upon, by those who are not acquainted with his
antecedents, as the exponent of Catholic views, the representative of
Catholic intelligence and education. We are therefore compelled, in
self-defence, to declare that the opinions he has expressed are not the
opinions of the Catholic Church, and the language he has thought fit to
use cannot be regarded, by the Catholic people of Ireland, but as
offensive and insulting.
His lecture contains little originality of thought or novelty of argument.
It does but reflect the spirit of the age in which we live. The opinions
and the views which it sets forth have long been familiar to our ears:
they pervade the shallow current literature of England, of Germany, of
Italy, of France. Intellectual freedom, unbounded, unrestrained; freedom
of thought in the search after truth, without any regard to authority;
freedom of speech in the circulation of every view and opinion; freedom to
pull down old theories, freedom to build up new theories; freedom to roam
at large without any guide over the vast fields of speculation, adopting
that which private judgment commends, rejecting that which human reason
disapproves; these are the popular dogmas of the present day; and these
are the topics which Mr. Justice Keogh proposes to illustrate and to
enforce by the life and writings of our great English poet.
Now, we are not the enemies of freedom. The Catholic Church is not the
enemy of freedom. But we should expect that one who comes forward to
enlighten the world on this important subject, would tell us _how far_
human reason is to be left without restraint in the search after truth. It
is easy to talk of intolerance, persecution, narrow-minded bigotry; but
these words have no meaning unless we first clearly understand what that
freedom is—in thought, in word, in action—which is the natural right of
all men; which it is intolerance to deny, which it is tyranny to
extinguish. First of all, if the fact of a Divine Revelation be once
admitted, it is clear that human reason is not exempt from _all
restraint_: it must be controlled at least by the Word of God. We are
surely bound to believe what God has taught: and when reason would lead us
to conclusions contrary to His teaching, as may sometimes happen, we are
bound to check our reason and to abandon those conclusions. For, reason
_may_ be deceived, but God can _not_. This is what we understand by the
words of St. Paul when he speaks of “bringing into captivity every
understanding unto the obedience of Christ”—II. _Cor._, x. 5.
With this preliminary remark we shall now submit to our readers the
opinions of Mr. Justice Keogh:—
“Could words of mine prevail to induce you to devote a small
portion of your leisure hours, stolen though it be from the
pleasure paths of sensational or periodical literature, to those
great productions of John Milton, in which the staunchest friend
of freedom and of truth that ever lived has made the most
successful war against tyranny and falsehood—in which he has
proclaimed in tones not unworthy of the Apostle of the
Gentiles,(2) that education really free is the only source of
political and individual liberty, the only true safeguard of
states and bulwark of their renown—in which he has for ever
‘justified the ways of God to man’, by asserting the right of all
men to exercise unrestrained their intellectual faculties upon all
the gifts of God—to determine for themselves what is truth and
what is falsehood—to circulate their thoughts from one to another,
from land to land, from tribe to tribe, from nation to nation,
free as ‘the winds that from four quarters blow’—to raise their
thoughts and to pour forth their words above the level of vulgar
superstition, unrestricted by any illiberal or illiterate
licenser—then you will find that he has risen, as mortal man never
did before, to the height of greatest argument, and proclaimed in
language which is affecting the fate of millions, even at this
hour, on the banks of the Mississippi, and in the remote forests
of the far west, that He who has made ’of one blood all nations of
men to dwell on all the face of the earth, willeth not that men
shall any longer hold in bondage as a property the bodies or the
souls of men, but that all alike shall have, unobstructed by any
ordinance, a free book, a free press, a free conscience’. If any
words of mine shall tempt you to approach these considerations, to
ponder upon them as they are to be found in the tractates of
Milton, in a tranquil, in a large and comprehensive spirit, and
when you have done so, to make their fit application not only at
home but abroad, not only abroad but at home, then we shall not
have met in vain in this assembly”.
We do not propose to offer any remarks on the subject of political
liberty. But the principles here enunciated are of universal application.
Milton waged the “successful war” of freedom not less in matters of
religion than in matters of state. And Mr. Justice Keogh adopts his
principles without any limitation. He asserts with Milton “the right of
all men to exercise _unrestrained their intellectual faculties upon all
the gifts of God_—to determine for themselves what is truth and what is
falsehood”. If we take these words literally as they stand, they are
inconsistent not with the Catholic religion only, but with every system of
Christianity that has ever existed. Luther, the great champion of
intellectual freedom, though he shook off the yoke of church authority,
set up in its stead the authority of the Bible. Even he was willing to
admit that the wanderings of the human mind should be restricted by the
teaching of the Word of God. It is clearly contrary to the common
principles of Christianity to assert that in metaphysics, in ethics, in
psychology, in any human science, the mind is at liberty to embrace
opinions incompatible with the truths which God has revealed. And if it be
not at liberty to do so, then it is not “unrestrained”.
It may be said, however, that the author of this address does not really
intend to assert what his words seem to convey. How then are we to guess
at his meaning? He insists upon “the right of all men to exercise
_unrestrained_ their intellectual faculties” in the pursuit of truth. If
he does not mean this, what _does_ he mean? If he does not wish to exclude
_all restraint_ on the “intellectual faculties” of men, what restraint is
he willing to admit? Upon this point there seem to be just two opinions
between which he has to choose: the one is the common doctrine of all
Catholics; the other is the fundamental principle of the Protestant
Church. Let us pause for a moment to examine these two systems.
According to Catholic faith, our Divine Lord has established in His Church
an infallible tribunal, to pronounce, in matters of religion, what is true
and what is false. Hence, it is never lawful, whether there be question of
religious belief or of human science, to adopt opinions at variance with
the teaching of this infallible tribunal. Here indeed is a check upon
intellectual freedom, but a check which must, of necessity, be admitted by
all who belong to the Catholic Church. And surely it is no great sacrifice
to submit our finite understanding, so frail and erring, to the authority
of God’s Word, explained by a tribunal which He has Himself established,
and to which He has promised His never-failing help.
Protestants, on the other hand, maintain the right of each one to
interpret for himself, according to the best of his private judgment, the
Revelation which God has given to man. The liberty of the human mind is
therefore unfettered by any human authority. In this all sects are agreed.
Some, indeed, believe that the Church has authority to teach, and some
reject this opinion; but all maintain that there is no obligation in
conscience to accept her teaching. She has not the gift of infallibility.
Just as individuals may fall into error, so too may the Church herself
fall into error. Her teaching may be true, or it may be false; each one is
to judge for himself. The only check upon the freedom of thought is the
Divine Message sent to us from on High, and recorded in the pages of Holy
Writ.
We maintain, of course, that the Catholic system which we have just
explained is true, and the Protestant system false. If we were engaged in
controversy with a Protestant, it would be our duty at once to establish
and to defend our doctrine; to demonstrate that the Church of Christ is
infallible, and that the right of private judgment is contrary alike to
the teaching of Scripture and to the dictates of common sense. But in the
case before us, there is no call for proof: Mr. Justice Keogh is a
Catholic. It remains then only to examine if the language of his address
is not calculated to convey an opinion quite inconsistent with the faith
which he professes.
The question we wish to raise is simply this: “Does the address before us
admit that the human mind in the pursuit of truth should be restrained by
the authoritative definitions of the Catholic Church, or does it rather
exclude this restraint?” Now, in the first place, it is to be remembered
that this restriction of intellectual freedom is denied by all Protestants
in this country, and maintained by all Catholics. When a lecturer, then,
addressing a mixed audience, in a written discourse, tells them that “all
men have a right to exercise their intellectual faculties _unrestrained_”,
do not the circumstances of the case fix upon his words a Protestant
signification? Will not his hearers naturally say that he has chosen the
Protestant side of the controversy, and not the Catholic? Again, according
to the Protestant doctrine, each one is at liberty to construct a system
of religious belief for himself: according to the Catholic doctrine, every
one should accept the tenets of his faith on the authority of the Church.
Now we are told in the address, that all men have “_a right to determine
for themselves_ what is truth and what is falsehood”. Has this phraseology
a Catholic or a Protestant complexion? Lastly, the lecturer exhorts his
hearers to go themselves to the pages of Milton, there to learn the
doctrine of intellectual freedom. It will, therefore, naturally be
supposed, that the doctrine is defended by the lecturer in the same sense
in which it is defended by the poet. Now Milton denied again and again,
not in his writings only, but also by his acts, that the Church has any
right to interfere with the speculations of the human mind. It is evident,
therefore, that the language of Mr. Justice Keogh, whether considered in
itself, or understood by the light of the context, is incompatible with
the principles of the Catholic Religion.
Freedom of thought is not enough: freedom of speech is also an essential
dogma of the new philosophy. We are assured that all men have a right “to
circulate their thoughts from one to another, from land to land, from
tribe to tribe, from nation to nation, free as ‘the winds that from four
quarters blow’; to raise their thoughts, and to pour forth their words
above the level of vulgar superstition, unrestricted by any illiberal or
illiterate licenser”. Accordingly, amongst the various prose works of
Milton, there is one which our lecturer selects for especial commendation.
It is entitled: _Areopagitica, a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed
Printing_. This little tract is distinguished, no doubt, for its learning,
wit, and eloquence; but these high qualities are devoted to the defence of
opinions which we cannot accept. The book and its principles are thus
introduced to his audience by Mr. Justice Keogh:
“If all the works he produced were cancelled and forgotten ... yet
give one in hand, the treatise for the liberty of unlicensed
printing, the _Areopagitica_, and I would boldly maintain, not
only that he had satisfied every call which his country could make
on the most devoted of her sons, but that he had vindicated their
rights and sustained his own reputation in the greatest pen
writing in the English language. He wished, as he tells us in this
treatise, to deliver the press from the restraints with which it
was incumbered, that the power of determining what ought to be
published and what suppressed, might no longer be entrusted to
captious lawyers or knavish priests, or even grave chancellors and
venerable chief justices.... I shall give you, even at the risk of
trying your patience, some extracts from this treatise; but first
let me tell you, that it establishes in the clearest way, not only
that Milton was the fast friend of toleration, but that the
charges of being an enemy of all order and of all monarchy, so
industriously made against him, are without foundation.... And
then he gives expression to this noble sentiment, fit to be
engraven in letters of gold. Let statesmen hear it, and tyrants,
civil and ecclesiastical, dwell upon it: ‘Although I dispraise not
the defence of just immunities, yet love my peace better, if that
were all, give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue
freely, according to conscience, above all liberties’. I cannot
bring myself to hurry over this noble tract. I have read it over
again and again; I read it years and years ago, and often since,
and now again, for the purpose of addressing you; and the oftener
I read it, the more I take it to my heart. If such be its effect
upon me, as I fondly hope it may be upon many of you”, etc.
Notwithstanding this ardent and enthusiastic declaration, we yet think it
would be unfair to impute to the learned lecturer every casual expression
or even every deliberate opinion set forth in the speech he so much
admires. It is, however, clear that he adopts as his own at least the main
features of the doctrine enunciated, and the general character of the
argument by which it is defended. This doctrine may be explained in two
words: unbounded liberty, on the one hand, to publish and to circulate all
manner of opinions; unbounded liberty, on the other, to read all manner of
books. The State, it is contended, has no right to forbid, or to repress,
those publications which are dangerous to the welfare of society; neither
has the Church a right to forbid or to repress those publications which
are hostile to the spiritual interests of the faithful. These views we
believe to be false and pernicious both as regards the power of the State
and the power of the Church. It is, however, under the latter aspect alone
that we propose to consider the subject.
The pastors of the Church have received a divine command to guard the
integrity of faith and to watch over the purity of morals. Therefore have
they also received from God that authority which is necessary for the due
fulfilment of this high charge. And such is the authority to prohibit and,
as far as may be, to repress those publications of which the only tendency
is to introduce error and to disseminate vice. For it is impossible to
preserve truth incorrupt in a community, if error may be circulated
without restriction, dressed up in the delusive garb of sophistry; it is
impossible to preserve morals pure, if vice may be freely exhibited in the
most seductive and alluring forms. A great writer and a wise philosopher,
Samuel Johnson, even though a Protestant, had the vigour of mind to seize
this important principle, which he has expressed with a singular felicity
of diction and an epigrammatic power peculiarly his own: “If every
murmurer at government”, he says, “may diffuse discontent, there can be no
peace; and if every sceptic in theology may teach his follies, there can
be no religion”.(3)
We confess indeed that this is a question full of difficulty to members of
the Protestant Church. They believe that each one has a right to judge for
himself what is true and what is false: and it is not easy to see how this
right can be exercised, unless each one be free to examine every form of
belief, every variety of error. But we are at a loss to understand how a
Catholic should go astray on a subject so plain. From the earliest ages
the Catholic Church has ever claimed and exercised the right to condemn
and prohibit those books which are contrary to faith and dangerous to
morals. Now it would be an error in doctrine to suppose that the Catholic
Church could claim such a right if she had not received it from her Divine
Founder.
If we pass from the doctrine of Milton to his arguments, we shall have
much greater reason to wonder how it should have come to pass that we are
asked, by a Catholic lecturer, to accept his views. He does not defend the
circulation of bad books as a necessary evil, which it is inexpedient or
impossible to check. On the contrary, he maintains it is a positive good,
which ought to be encouraged. According to his notion, the promiscuous
reading of bad books is the furnace in which our love for truth and virtue
is to be tried. There can be no merit in truth, he argues, for him who is
not acquainted with error; there can be no merit in virtue for him who is
not familiar with vice. These are sentiments so utterly repugnant to the
common instincts of our nature, that we could not believe they came from
our illustrious poet, if his own words did not bear witness against him:—
“As, therefore, the state of man now is, what wisdom can there he
to choose, what continence to forbear, without the knowledge of
evil? He that can apprehend and consider vice with all her baits
and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain, and yet distinguish, and
yet prefer that which is truly better, he is the true wayfaring
Christian. I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue,
unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and seeks her
adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland
is to be run for notwithstanding dust and heat. Assuredly we bring
not innocence into the world; we bring impurity much rather: that
which purifies us is trial, and trial is by what is contrary. That
virtue, therefore, which is but a youngling in the contemplation
of evil, and knows not the utmost that vice promises to her
followers, and rejects it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure....
Since therefore the knowledge and survey of vice is in this world
so necessary to the constituting of human virtue, and the scanning
of error to the confirmation of truth, how can we more safely and
with less danger scout into the regions of sin and falsity, than
by reading all manner of tractates, and hearing all manner of
reason? And this is the benefit which may be had of books
promiscuously read”.(4)
We shall offer no commentary on this passage. Principles like these carry
with them their own condemnation. And yet such are the principles advanced
in a tract, which has made so favourable an impression on Mr. Justice
Keogh, that the _oftener he reads it, the more he takes it to his heart_,
and which he _fondly hopes_ may make a like impression on the minds of his
audience.
When we are assured by Mr. Justice Keogh that Milton was “the fast friend
of toleration”, we can scarcely believe that he is serious. Lest, however,
our readers should be led astray, we shall briefly tell them what Milton
_really thought_ and _said_ on the subject of religious toleration.
Towards the close of his life, he wrote a very important treatise(5) in
which he discusses the question, and explains his views with his usual
clearness and force. He maintains in this treatise that all religious
sects are to be tolerated, with _one exception_; and that exception is the
_Roman Catholic Church_. Lutherans, Calvinists, Anabaptists, Socinians,
Arminians, in a word, _all Protestants_, whatever their religious opinions
may be, should have liberty to preach, to discuss, to worship, unmolested:
but Catholics must not be tolerated; they must not be permitted to defend
their doctrines; they must not be permitted to worship either in public or
in private.(6) This, he contends, is one of the _best means to prevent the
growth of Popery_.(7) Here is the champion of intellectual liberty that
Mr. Justice Keogh would hold up to the admiration of his audience! Here is
“the fast friend of toleration”, “the staunchest friend of freedom and
truth that ever lived”, the man who “has made the most successful war
against tyranny and falsehood”! We must charitably suppose that the
learned lecturer has formed his opinion of Milton without reading his
works.
We are told by the biographers of Milton that his father, who was the son
of a zealous Roman Catholic, abandoned the religion of his ancestors, and
was on that account deprived of his inheritance. The act of apostasy is
one that the Catholic Church can never contemplate without the deepest
sorrow and abhorrence. According to the principles of our faith, he who
separates himself from the one True Church transgresses the command of God
and forfeits his claim to everlasting happiness. Yet, it would seem, Mr.
Justice Keogh finds in this act nothing to deplore, but much to admire.
Speaking of the poet, he says:—
“He was in early youth instructed by a father who had sacrificed
for conscience’ sake a fair inheritance, with all scriptural lore,
of which he drank with a thirst which was never satisfied”.
If we understand these words aright, our author regards with complacency
the conduct of one who renounced the true faith, to embrace a religion
which, in the eyes of all Catholics, is false and heretical. To his mind
the act of apostasy is _a sacrifice for conscience’ sake_. This is
liberality of sentiment indeed! But it is a liberality of sentiment which
we cannot reconcile with the maxims of sacred Scripture. Not so did the
great apostle speak of those who had “made shipwreck concerning the
faith”. “Of whom”, he said, “is Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have
delivered up to Satan, that they may learn not to blaspheme”—I. _Tim._, i.
19. 20. And again: “And their speech spreadeth like a canker; of whom is
Hymenaeus and Philetus, who have erred from the truth, saying that the
resurrection is past already”—II. _Tim._, ii. 17, 18.
Our readers, perhaps, will not be unwilling to know what was the effect of
this training on the religious principles of Milton. His rich and vigorous
mind was, indeed, a fertile soil. The seed which was sown in the spring
time of youth, did not fail to grow up into a luxuriant tree, and to bring
forth fruit in due season, according to its kind. In the maturity of life
he constructed a system of theology which he professed to derive from
Scripture alone. It is recorded by his own pen in his treatise _De
Doctrina Christiana_, which, having been lost for a hundred and fifty
years, has come to light within the present century. The peculiar tenets
which he sets forth in this remarkable book may be briefly told. He
defends the lawfulness of polygamy and divorce; he maintains that matter
exists from eternity; he denies the doctrine of the Trinity; the Son is
inferior to the Father, and produced in time; the Holy Ghost is inferior
to the Father and the Son. An able writer has described “the result of the
whole work” as “a system of theology not merely in discordance with the
Church of England, but with every sect by which we are divided; an
incoherent and conflicting theory, which combines Arianism, Anabaptism,
Latitudinarianism, Quakerism, and we know not what to add, on account of
his opinions on polygamy, but Mahometanism”.(8) These results are the ripe
fruit of that early instruction in “all Scriptural lore” which Milton
received, and for which Mr. Justice Keogh would seek our sympathy and
approval.
After what we have seen, we cannot be surprised that our learned lecturer
should point the finger of scorn and ridicule at the Roman Inquisition.
Speaking of Milton’s travels in Italy, he says: “There it was his fortune
to visit Gallileo, confined in the prison of the Inquisition for thinking
in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican believers”. We do
not propose here to defend the Inquisition: neither shall we attempt to
disprove the charge, which Mr. Justice Keogh would fain convey, that the
Catholic Church is the enemy of scientific truth. We shall wait for an
adversary who deals in arguments and not in sneers. We cannot, however,
forbear to notice a gross inaccuracy in the statement of fact. It is
asserted that it was the fortune of Milton “to visit Gallileo _confined in
the prison of the Inquisition_”. This assertion is simply false. Milton’s
visit must have occurred about the year 1638, and it is well known to all
who are acquainted with the subject, that Gallileo was then living at home
in his own house at Arcetri, quietly pursuing his astronomical studies. In
point of law, indeed, he was still technically a prisoner of the
Inquisition, but this is widely different from being _confined in the
prison of the Inquisition_. It is only fair to observe that the words of
Milton himself, from whom the lecturer has taken his statement, are, on
this point, strictly correct. “There it was that I found and visited the
famous Gallileo, grown old, _a prisoner to the Inquisition_, for thinking
in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licensers
thought”.(9) Our lecturer, therefore, in borrowing the language of the
poet, has not only contrived to introduce an error, but he has taken care
that this error shall be on the side most unfavourable to the Catholic
Church.
We shall not trouble the reader with our own views or arguments on the
hackneyed controversy of Gallileo’s persecution. We shall be content to
contrast the opinion of Mr. Justice Keogh with that of a learned and able
Protestant writer, who has devoted much study to the life and times of the
great astronomer, and who is himself honourably distinguished in kindred
fields of science. Sir David Brewster, with all his strong anti-Catholic
prejudices, distinctly maintains that the trials of Gallileo, such as they
were, are not to be ascribed to his opinions in matters of astronomy, but
rather to his “personal imprudence” and to his “irreligious
sentiments”.(10) The character of the persecution which he had to endure
at the hands of the Catholic Church may be gathered from the testimony of
the same eminent writer. In the year 1623, long after he had been tried
before the tribunal of the Inquisition, having occasion to come to Rome,
he met with a noble and generous reception from the Father of the
faithful. “The kindness of his Holiness”, says Sir David Brewster, “was of
the most marked description. He not only loaded Gallileo with presents,
and promised him a pension for his son Vincenzo, but wrote a letter to
Ferdinand II., who had just succeeded Cosmo as Grand Duke of Tuscany,
recommending Gallileo to his particular patronage”.(11) And again he says:
“Thus honoured by the head of the Church, and befriended by its
dignitaries, Gallileo must have felt himself secure against the
indignities of its lesser functionaries.... But Gallileo was bound
to the Romish hierarchy by even stronger ties. His son and himself
were pensioners of the Church; and having accepted of its alms,
they owed it at least a decent and respectful allegiance. The
pension thus given by Urban was not a remuneration which
sovereigns sometimes award to the services of their subjects.
Gallileo was a foreigner at Rome. The sovereign of the Papal state
owed him no obligation; and hence we must regard the pension of
Gallileo as _a donation from the Roman Pontiff to science itself_,
and as a declaration to the Christian world that _religion was not
jealous of philosophy_, and that the Church of Rome was willing to
_respect and foster even the genius of its enemies_”.(12)
There are many other blots in the address of Mr. Justice Keogh, which a
severe critic would not pass by without censure. He would ask, perhaps,
how comes it that the lecturer takes his Scriptural quotations from the
Protestant and not from the Catholic Bible? Is it that the Protestant
Bible is the only one with which he is familiar? Can it be that the
Protestant Bible is the source from which he derives his views in
philosophy and in theology? We fully recognize the literary merits of the
English Authorized Version; but there can be no doubt that the religious
prejudices of its authors have led them into many serious errors. At all
events it is not usual for a Catholic to quote from its pages without some
apology or some explanation. Again, why does he tell his audience that the
names of Spenser, of Shakespeare, of Scott, are to be found on the _Index
Expurgatorius_? Did he consult the _Index_ himself and find these names
upon it? It cannot be: they are not there. Was he induced to make the
assertion on the authority of some trustworthy witness? We can scarcely
believe it was so: no writer who cares for his reputation would commit
himself to a statement so easily disproved. Was it, then, that he wished
to cast unfounded aspersions on the Catholic Church, and to bring her
institutions into discredit with all who cherish the names of those
illustrious writers? Once more: Mr. Justice Keogh, forgetting, for the
moment, his country as well as his religion, introduces to the favourable
notice of his audience “our glorious deliverer, William III.”! What a
startling phrase to hear from the lips of an Irishman and a Catholic!
William III. possessed many eminent qualities: he was a brave soldier and
an able statesmen. But in the annals of Ireland his name must be for ever
associated with persecution and with perfidy.(13)
Our limited space is now drawing to a close; and, in good truth, we are
weary of passing censure. It is time that we lift up our eyes from the
right honourable lecturer to fix them for a few moments on the more noble
and majestic proportions of the great poet himself. When we contemplate
that venerable figure, as it stands forth to view on the canvas of
history, if we speak in the language of censure, it must be blended with
the language of genuine love and veneration. His errors we cannot defend;
his faults we do not wish to extenuate; we are obliged to protest against
his principles, and those who eulogise them. But amidst the varied
fortunes of his chequered career he displayed many great qualities, which
cannot fail to win the admiration of every generous heart.
Of his public conduct as a statesman we cannot indeed speak with approval.
It seems to us that all the arguments advanced in his defence carry with
them also his condemnation. He sided with the parliament against the king,
because, it is said, he wished to uphold the constitution of his country;
and yet he defended the trial and execution of the king, which were
conducted in defiance of that same constitution. He abandoned his lawful
sovereign to support the fortunes of Cromwell, because he believed that
Charles was a despot; and yet he clung to the cause of Cromwell when
Cromwell was not only a despot but an usurper. If the constitution was to
be upheld, then the execution of the king was indefensible. If a tyrant
should forfeit the allegiance of his subjects, then Cromwell had no claim
to be obeyed. Yet however much he erred, it must be ever borne in mind
that those who took a part in the turbulent events of the great rebellion,
had not the same opportunities to form a calm and impartial judgment which
we now possess. Men distinguished by great vigour of mind and great public
spirit, were to be found on opposite sides in the senate and in the camp.
None could have told, when the breach first appeared between Charles and
his parliament, that it would lead to civil war and end in the crime of
regicide. It was necessary to make a choice; and the choice once made, it
required more than ordinary virtue, more than ordinary courage, to recede;
virtue and courage with which Milton was not endowed.
Those, however, who would form a just estimate of Milton’s character must
seek him far away from the din of war and the strife of parties. He had
borne a conspicuous part in a memorable political struggle; his fame had
been carried abroad to distant lands; and yet he retires without regret
from public life, to commune with his own mind in the obscurity of an
humble lodging. The world admires the magnanimity of the old Roman who,
having saved his country from destruction, returned again to his plough
and to the simple pleasures of his rustic home. But there is far more to
admire in the closing period of Milton’s career. The hour of his
prosperity had passed away; the vigour of youth was gone. Disappointed in
his hopes, neglected by an age unworthy of his genius, poor, and blind,
and old, his splendid mind rose superior to all these calamities, which
would have crushed a less noble spirit. As if now, at length, released
from the captivity of earthly bonds, he soars aloft to higher thoughts,
and pours forth from an overflowing soul the lofty strains of his
unrivalled poem, the glory of English literature, the wonder and delight
of every succeeding age. Not often does the history of the world present
to us a spectacle so sublime.
Yet how little does genius avail in the one great and important affair of
religion, unless guided and controlled by that infallible authority which
God has established in His Church! The great doctrinal errors of Milton
cannot be imputed to any want of intellectual power; for, in the natural
gifts of intellect, he was eminently conspicuous. Much rather must they be
ascribed to the erroneous system he employed in the search of Revealed
truth. Starting from false principles, the more boldly he advanced, the
more deeply did he plunge into error. In common with other Protestants, he
accepted the doctrine of private judgment; but he was distinguished from
others by the logical consistency and inflexible resolution with which he
ever clung to this fundamental principle. Having been taught not to
subject his reason to the authority of a Church which claimed to be
infallible, he refused to submit to the teaching of a Church which had
renounced that claim. His errors were more extravagant than those of other
Protestant writers, only because he was more fearless in his speculations,
more consistent in his principles, more honest in his speech. Others are
often saved from error because they hesitate to follow the light of
reason, when reason would lead them too far from the beaten track of
received opinions. But such timidity and inconsistency were little in
harmony with the spirit of Milton. He had learned in early youth, as a
first principle, that, in the matter of religion, Scripture should be his
only authority, reason his only guide; and in after life he was ever
prepared to follow that guide whithersoever it might conduct.
The religious career of Milton appears to us, therefore, in a remarkable
manner, at once to illustrate and to disprove the Protestant _Rule of
Faith_. In him it was fairly tried, and it was found wanting. It would be
difficult, we believe, to select from the whole range of Protestant
writers any one who possessed in a higher degree, those qualities which
are favourable to the exercise of private judgment. His distinguished
biographer, Mr. Mitford, who was himself a Protestant clergyman, has
spoken on this subject with great candour and ability. Referring to the
treatise _De Doctrina Christiana_, he says:—
“It is acknowledged by all that it is written with a calm and
conscientious desire for truth, like that of a man who had
forgotten or dismissed the favourite animosities of his youth, and
who had retired within himself, in the dignity of age, to employ
the unimpaired energies of his intellect on the most important and
awful subject of inquiry. The haughtiness of his temper, the
defiance of his manner, his severe and stoical pride, are no
longer seen. He approaches the book of God with an humble and
reverential feeling, and with such a disposition of piety, united
to so powerful an intellect, and such immense stores of learning,
who would not have expected to have seen the ‘star-bright form’ of
truth appear from out the cloud; but wherever we look, the pride
of man’s heart is lowered, and the weakness of humanity displayed.
With all his great qualifications for the removal of error and the
discovery of truth, _he failed_”.(14)
He not only failed, but he seems to have been a perfect type of that
unsteadiness in error which St. Paul describes in his Epistle to the
Ephesians: he was as a little child “tossed to and fro, and carried about
with every wind of doctrine”. He wandered, we are told, “from Puritanism
to Calvinism, from Calvinism to an esteem for Arminius, and finally, from
an accordance with the Independents and Anabaptists to a dereliction of
every denomination of Protestants”.(15) When this was the fate of his
gigantic intellect, how can humbler minds hope to attain success if they
employ the same means?
It seems to us, therefore, that we can find some excuse for the errors of
Milton in the false principles which he had imbibed in his youth. And,
with all his faults, we cannot but revere the magnanimity of his spirit,
the splendour of his genius. But we have no sympathy with those who,
having the rich inheritance of an infallible authority for their guide in
matters of religion, would yet claim for themselves the right to launch
forth into the boundless sea of thought without restriction or restraint;
who blindly embrace the conclusions of Milton, while they reject his
premises; and who imitate him in his wanderings, while they cannot imitate
that nobility of sentiment and that loftiness of eloquence which shed a
lustre even around his errors.